Crome YellowOn vacation from school, Denis goes to stay at Crome, an English country house inhabitated by several of Huxley's most outlandish characters--from Mr. Barbecue-Smith, who writes 1,500 publishable words an hour by "getting in touch" with his "subconscious," to Henry Wimbush, who is obsessed with writing the definitive history of chrome. Denis's stay proves to be a disaster amid his weak attempts to attract the girl of his dreams and the ridicule he endures regarding his plan to write a novel about love and art. Lambasting the post-Victorian standards of morality, Chrome yello is a witty masterpiece that, in F. Scott Fitzgerald's words, "is too ironic to be called satire and too scornful to be called irony." |
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ALDOUS HUXLEY amusing Anne asked Barbecue Barbecue-Smith beautiful began Bodiham Cæsars Camlet canvas carminative chair CHAPTER consolations of philosophy Crome CROME YELLOW cubism dancing dark Denis followed Denis looked Denis's door emotions eyes face feet felt Filomena garden George Georgiana gesture Gombauld hair hand haps Havelock Ellis head Henry Wimbush holiday hour iron mask Ivor Ivor's Jenny Knockespotch Lady Lapith laughed laughter leaned light listen lying Mary ment mind morning nature never night nodded noise opened painted pale parapet perhaps pince-nez pipe pleasure poem Poggibonsi preached Priscilla red notebook rest round Scogan seemed shoulder side silence Sing Sir Ferdinando Sir Hercules smiled soul sound spirit stairs stood suddenly talk terrace there's things thought Timpany tion tower trees turned voice walked wondered words writing
Popular passages
Page 85 - And I saw an angel standing in the sun; and he cried with a loud voice, saying to all the fowls that fly in the midst of heaven, Come and gather yourselves together unto the supper of the great God. That ye may eat the flesh of kings, and the flesh of captains, and the flesh of mighty men, and the flesh of horses, and of them that sit on them, and the flesh of all men, both free and bond, both small and great.
Page 78 - Take heed that no man deceive you. For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ ; and shall deceive many. And ye shall hear of wars and rumours of wars : see that ye be not troubled : for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom ; and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. All these are the beginning of sorrows.
Page 38 - Well shot, ye firemen! Oh how sweet, And round your equal fires do meet, Whose shrill report no ear can tell, But echoes to the eye and smell.
Page 166 - ... nouvelle affaire ; Pour le berger le troc fut bon, Car il obtint de la bergère Trente baisers pour un mouton. -*••-- .Le lendemain Phyllis plus tendre, Craignant de déplaire au berger, Fut trop heureuse de lui rendre Trente moutons pour un baiser.
Page 99 - Of Huxley's two themes, the first, the disparity of the ideal and the actual, is expressed characteristically in the account from Mr. Wimbush's "History of Crome," of the Elizabethan baronet's sanitary arrangements; "the necessities of nature are so base and brutish that in obeying them we are apt to forget that we are the noblest creatures of the universe...
Page 283 - What they think of me or of anything else in the world, what they will do in five minutes' time, are things I can't guess at. For all I know, you may suddenly jump up and try to murder me in' a moment's time." "Come, come," said Denis. "True," Mr. Wimbush continued, "the little I know about your past is certainly reassuring. But I know nothing of your present, and neither you nor I know anything of your future. It's appalling; in living people, one is dealing with unknown and unknowable quantities....
Page 112 - He's getting more and more abstract every day. He'd given up the third dimension when I was there and was just thinking of giving up the second. Soon, he says, there'll be just the blank canvas. That's the logical conclusion. Complete abstraction. Painting's finished; he's finishing it.
Page 42 - I have to say that art is the process by which one reconstructs the divine reality out of chaos. Pleasure is one of the mystical roads to union with the infinite— the ecstasies of drinking, dancing, love-making. As for women, I am perpetually assuring myself that they're the broad highway to divinity. And to think that I'm only just beginning to see through the silliness of the whole thing!
Page 203 - Her purple pyjamas clothed her with an ampleness that hid the lines of her body; she looked like some large, comfortable, unjointed toy, a sort of Teddy bear — but a Teddy bear with an angel's head, pink cheeks, and hair like a bell of gold. An angel's face, the feather of an angel's wing. . . . Somehow the whole atmosphere of this sunrise was rather angelic. 'It's extraordinary to think of sexual selection...
Page 144 - There are extraordinary adventures and still more extraordinary speculations. Intelligences and emotions, relieved of all the imbecile preoccupations of civilised life, move in intricate and subtle dances, crossing and recrossing, advancing, retreating, impinging. An immense erudition and an immense fancy go hand in hand. All the ideas of the present and of the past, on every possible subject...